


Promise

by TheParkingFairy



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/M, Loss, Ultimate Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheParkingFairy/pseuds/TheParkingFairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was unwillingly born with the sole purpose of bringing this wicked evil into the world, but here, now, she would willingly die if it meant protecting those she loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye

It was time.

Grima lay bleeding before her, moments from death; seeing her own eyes staring back at her in disgust sent a shiver down her spine. All their sacrifices, their pain and despair, everything they had done was building towards this very moment.

Adrenaline fading away, she began to feel everything. Both she and Chrom had broken away from the rest of the Shepherds to rush Grima in an attempt to end this battle as quickly as possible. Although the plan worked brilliantly, it was not without its consequences. Separated from the rest of the Shepherds, they lacked the usual amount of protection the group awarded them. She had taken a particularly brutal hit to the head from the end of an enemy sword, just barely twisting away to turn a lethal attack into simply a particularly painful one. Sweat mixed with the blood lacing down her face as her brows furrowed in a grimace of pain. Her muscles screamed at her, protesting against the abuse she subjected them to. A voice in the back of her mind whispered for her to rest, to lay down her sword and tome and simply collapse, but she shook her head in refusal.  She could see Chrom behind her struggling to stand, a vicious swipe trailing across his leg. The glimpse told her it was a grotesque wound, but not a life-threatening one, something for which she would be forever grateful. One session with Lissa and he would be good as new.

She smiled at the thought of Lissa admonishing him for breaking away from the rest of the Shepherds in what would undoubtedly be labeled a reckless action. Surely they would both be treated to a lengthy scolding. Most battles would end with such a disagreement brought on by either her’s or Chrom’s actions, sometimes both of theirs. Chrom would apologize profusely and Lissa would threaten future bodily harm should he ever do it again (he inevitably would should the situation call for it). Frederick would stand there, solemn-faced and grave, adding ammunition to Lissa’s verbal assault, but ultimately they would laugh and share a collective sigh of relief at the lack of casualties on their side. Her eyes watered at the thought of not being present for it this time around.

Turning back to face Grima, she had a choice. She could either allow Chrom to deal the final blow and effectively curse a future generation to face the same tribulations they dealt with, or take the kill herself and end this evil for good. _Only in this way may the fell dragon be destroyed for good and all,_ Naga had said so herself. To any tactician with half a brain the decision was obvious, even if the cost was her own life. Why curse the future with this monstrosity when victory was so clearly guaranteed now? She had the power to end this now, but was the price too high?

Of course not.

Who was she to put her life before that of the world? She was many things: a brilliant tactician, the beloved wife of the Exalt, queen of Ylisse, a devoted mother, some even considered her heir to the throne of Plegia; however, she was not worth all the lives in the world. She was unwillingly born with the sole purpose of bringing this wicked evil into the world, but here, now, she would willingly die if it meant protecting those she loved.

“Time to end this.” Chrom’s voice shook her out of her reverie. Slowly he limped his way towards her, towards Grima, Falchion held tightly in his shaking hand. She ached to move back to him, to support his weight off the damaged leg, but unfortunately she had run out of time. She had to end this now.

Gathering the last of her strength, she flipped through the pages of her beloved Thoron tome, coming to the page of the powerful spell. So often she held back on using this particular tome, opting to use Arcthunder far more often. She would tell herself to save the Thoron tome for when it was needed most. Ironically that left the powerful tome virtually untouched. _What a waste_ , she thought to herself, lips pressed together into a sad smile. _Maybe Morgan will be able to put it to some use…_

One by one the words flowed out of her mouth as she readied the spell. Above her the magic orb appeared with a shower of crackling lightning barely held in check, her arm raised as if holding the ball in place.

“What…what are you doing?!” Grima snarled at her.

She paused before answering, hoping her voice would not give away the emotions lying beneath. “For once, I’m glad you and I are the same. Now I can give my life to protect those I care for…” Somehow she managed to speak steadily, firmly in fact. She meant what she said, she would gladly give her life for her loved ones, but beneath it all, she was very much afraid. She didn’t _want_ to die! She had so much to live for, she had a family who needed her! She still had so much to teach Morgan in the art of being a great Tactician (she had yet to give birth to him!) and Lucina needed her mother to show her how to properly dress lest she grow up wearing atrociously spotted dresses. And Chrom…Chrom would be heartbroken. Wasn’t he the one to say that he wanted his children to have both their father _and_ mother to raise them? She wished she could turn back to Chrom and wrap herself in his strength, but she didn’t know what she would see in his eyes and feared it would only break her resolve. She wanted so badly to stay here, with her family and friends, but unfortunately fate had a greater purpose for her in mind, one which she could not deny.

“You would not dare!”

Hearing the fear and desperation in Grima’s voice gave her strength she so desperately needed. “I would and I will. The evils you would visit on this world are unthinkable... In some way, I—we share the blame. It’s only right we meet our end together!” Throwing her arm forward, the Thoron spell sped towards its intended target.

“Nooo!” Grima screamed in pain as the magic made contact. The dragon head roared out in agony sending shockwaves throughout its body, knocking her and Chrom to the ground. She looked on with a sense of horror as Grima’s body began to dissipate in a cloud of dark magic, seemingly fading away from reality. _Is this what will happen to me?_ She surely had only minutes, maybe even seconds, to wait to find out. Suddenly, in a blinding flash of light, Grima was gone.

She couldn’t hold back the half-sob/half-laugh that escaped her mouth at seeing Grima disappear. _Grima is gone!_ Her excitement bubbled up stronger now as she sat back resting on the balls of her feet, body shaking as she laughed harder. For a moment, for a brief wondrous moment, she felt victorious, a final genuine smile gracing her lips.

“You promised…” Chrom spoke, his voice cracking at the end. She froze, knowing full well this conversation would occur, but still not fully prepared for it. Willing herself to stand, muscles screaming out again in protest, she finally turned around to face him.

Down on his knees and leaning heavily on Falchion ( _his leg must be feeling worse,_ she thought idly), he looked up at her with wide eyes and a horrified expression she had only seen once before. She didn’t know what waited for her, whether she would remember any of this at all, or if she would even be whole enough to _have_ a memory, but the thought of this being one of the final images she would have of him broke her already shattered heart even further.

She had to be strong for him, just one last time. _For the last time…_

Praying to Naga for strength, she walked towards him, dropping her sword and tome and leaving them behind. “Chrom, I’m sorry, truly I am, but all this destruction, I couldn’t let it happen again. I couldn’t let Grima have another chance at victory; I had to stop it now.” The words were tumbling out of her now in what was almost a crazed, rambling speech. She couldn’t stop. She may not have another chance ever again. Looking into his eyes she felt her own start to waver, a tear slowly trailing down her cheek, but continued on. “I’m sorry for lying to you, for promising not to sacrifice myself, but I will not apologize for doing it. I love you, Lucina, Morgan and Lissa, Frederick…everyone! But even so, I could not willingly stand here and allow you to doom a future generation to the same heartache we have faced these past years.” Finally dropping down to her knees in front of him, she paused to lift her hand up to drag her fingers along his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. She relished the action. “Haven’t we lost enough? Hasn’t _Ylisse_ lost enough?”

With a force she hadn’t thought possible given his current condition, he pulled her into a crushing embrace. Burying her face into his neck, she felt her tears come in earnest now. Sobs broke free as she lifted her arms to encircle his neck and hold onto him. “I can’t lose you,” he spoke so quietly she wasn’t entirely sure she heard him right.

“I’m so sorry.” For this, she was. She never wanted to leave him. They were supposed to have a lifetime together. She was his wife… _is_ his wife and it is her duty to be there for him, for their family, and for their kingdom. She is supposed to have a lifetime to grow old with him, poke fun at his gray hairs while she tries to cover up her own. She is supposed to be there to spoil chubby-faced grandchildren. _Lucina, Morgan, please forgive me._ Now a lifetime would only consist of these last moments with him. She couldn’t help the spark of anger that settled in the pit of her stomach, but it was quickly replaced by fear as a shiver lanced through her, causing her breath to hitch. It had started. She was fading away. 

Pulling back, he held her face with both hands. She saw his eyes shining with unshed tears, but also with a blaze of determination. “Naga said that if our bonds are strong enough, that you could come back. That you wouldn’t be gone forever. Promise me…” He looked down now and she caught his flinch at the sight of her increasing transparency. He swallowed and continued on. “Promise me that you’ll return. That you’ll find your way back to me.”

“I’ll find a way. I promise.”  This time she was sincere. Brilliant tactician that she was, nothing would stop her from finding a way back home if it was possible. She didn’t dare dwell on the possibility of that dreaded if.

Hope igniting in his eyes, he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t slow or gentle like their kisses usually were. He pressed his lips against hers roughly, whether to burn it to memory, or confirm for himself that she was still here, she wasn’t sure. Her hands ran up to his hair and buried themselves in it like she had so many times before. She always did enjoy the feel of his hair against her fingertips and in her grasp. One hand ran up to her hair and entangled itself there while the other drifted down to the small of her back to press her hips into his. His tongue swept across her lower lip, causing her to let out a soft moan and open up for him. He explored her, ravaged her. _What was it he had called himself so long ago, a wyvern in heat?_ This degree of affection out in the open would have been scandalous on any other occasion, but here, now, she would let him have this moment.

And suddenly the pressure was gone. His moments stopped all at once and he pulled back. The horrified look returned to his face, but was quickly covered up by a tight smile that lacked any real happiness. She tried to tighten her hold on him, only for her hands to fall through.

_Oh._ Her lips formed the shape, but no sound escaped her. She clinched her hands into fists, only to find that she felt no tightness from it, no feel of fingers digging into palms. Her muscles no longer ached, and her head no longer throbbed. Even the intense press of his lips against hers was now a mere ghost of a memory. She was more spirit than man.

She had thought through this precise moment before, what she would say as she lay dying. Before they were married, she imagined a death on the battlefield. Maybe she had turned too late, aimed too high, or stupidly just wasn’t paying attention, causing a sword or spell to hit her in _just the right (or wrong)spot._ Maybe she was outnumbered, or sacrificed herself for one of the Shepherds, either way she thought her odds of dying in the middle of a raging battlefield to be decently high. In that scenario she hoped she would have time for a _Goodbye_ , or maybe even a _Thanks for the memories,_ or if she was feeling particularly prestigious about it, maybe a _It’s been an honor._ She wasn’t silly enough to think she’d have time for some rousing farewell speech, probably just a few words at most. Sometimes she thought she may not even have time to say anything. Maybe the enemy did a fantastic job of thoroughly killing her, knocking the life out of her before she even hit the ground. In these imaginings she could only hope that before death came knocking she had managed to leave everything and everyone on a high note.

After she married Chrom and had Lucina, she refused to allow herself to dwell on such morbid thoughts. She couldn’t very well die on a battlefield, she was a mother! She had a child she needed to raise and a husband who would be lost without her. Whereas before she would run into battle with all the gusto of a raging bull, now she would take more precise and measured steps. She never dared to rush into battle without someone at her back, usually Chrom. She made sure to carry an extra Elixir or two, and to always, _always,_ have a backup for her backup plan. She double- and triple-checked her weapons before battle, lest one of them break while fending off some demented Risen and leave her utterly defenseless. And though it didn’t come up often, if she could at all avoid battle, she would. She was determined to be there for her family, and Gods help the Brigand, or Risen, that tried to stop her.

But this…she couldn’t stop _this_.

Staring out at the man she loved as he watched the woman he loved die, she could only think of a single thing to say. No heartfelt declarations of love, no messages she wanted him to dole out to their friends, or final requests. Instead she left him with the only thing that came to mind, the only bit of reassurance she could provide him with that would hopefully help ease the pain that would surely come. “I promise.”

No longer feeling the heaviness she now associated with a body, she felt lighter than she had ever been before. Her cloudy vision left everything in a hazy washout of what she knew it truly was. Colors lost their vibrancy and lines lost their sharpness. The fear that had found its home within her began to lift and her mind began to clear. She could swear she heard the far off sounds of hurried footsteps, hooves, and wings, but she could make no connection to what it might mean. Darkness was closing in around her, taking everything she once was. As her last seconds of clarity and _consciousness_ slipped away she grabbed onto the last thing she heard. The words of a broken man speaking to a ghost: “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a scene I wanted to expand upon. I hated how seemingly blasé the Avatar is about dying, especially if you ship them with Chrom. I mean, C'MON!, you're dying! You don't know if you're coming back! I wanted more emotion than the tidbit the game gives and this is what I came up with. I intentionally left identifiable details out so that it could be any Avatar with any name. Hopefully I did the scene justice. It certainly is one of my favorites. First time posting anything in a long time, so I hope you enjoy. :)


	2. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In all her imaginings of what the afterlife might be, this was certainly not it.

There were times in her life where she savored her time alone. Not that she didn’t love her time spent with the various quirky personalities that made up the heroic band known as The Shepherds, but sometimes (most times if she was truly honest with herself) time alone was the highlight of her week. When she was reading her books on battle strategy or contemplating their next course of action in the quiet of her tent, well these times didn’t count. In these moments, the war was her constant companion and she could never rest. When she was really alone, no war, no worries or fears or responsibilities looming over her, she could breathe. In these brief and scattered moments she could clear her mind of the dregs of war and focus on herself. The dull roar made up of the sounds of camp life was drowned out by her sense of serenity. It was these moments she secretly lived for. It was entirely selfish, she did not shy away from that truth, but she never indulged to the point of risking anyone’s life or their victory. If anything it strengthened her resolve to have these periods of respite making her better able to effectively strategize, which in turn allowed her to rationalize their existence. Those times of true quiet were punctuated by feelings of tranquility, calm, and every other emotion out there she could think of to convey utter bliss and relaxation. Just a few minutes here or there and she was ready to again don her mantle of obligations.

This quiet, however, this was different.

If she had to label it, the best she could think of was disorientating. It was odd floating in this darkness, soul bared to the environment. It was impending and elusive, restrictive and free. Whether this was the realm of Naga or that of Grima, or some twisted in-between, she had no idea. In all her imaginings of what the afterlife might be, this was certainly not it. It was dark and she was totally alone and seemed to be neither coming nor going. She was happy to find that her consciousness, though now free of body, was otherwise whole. She didn’t simply cease to be, but instead found herself continuing on in a different plane. She didn’t have to think hard to conclude that this definitely beat out not existing at all.

She had nowhere to go, didn’t know if she _could_ even go, if there was anywhere _to go_. She willed herself forward (she was simply a consciousness after all) and hoped that that alone would lead to progress in whatever _this_ was.

Once the initial confusion, with trace amounts of fear and awe, wore off, she found her thoughts morphing into thoughts of her friends. _Did everyone survive?_ Back when she was last of body _and_ mind, she had no time to look back to them. Too focused on her own sense of loss, she hadn’t thought on the possibility that loss had already occurred in the battle against Grima. Now her thoughts raced, cycling through the names of those that had becomes brothers and sisters in arms. Lissa, Frederick, Lon’qu, Sumia, and so many more. Their faces each crossed her thoughts leaving her mind spinning, so many lives that depended on her for survival. _Was I able to save them all? Did anyone lose their husband or wife, their son or daughter?_

_What about my family?_ She wasn’t there to say goodbye to Lucina (either of them) or to Morgan. Would they hate her for choosing the world over them? _Morgan never did want to let me go._ The thought alone broke her heart all over again. And Chrom…Chrom she hoped, though he may be angry with her (he would undoubtedly be angry), would at least understand. She didn’t dare let herself think that he had lost faith in her. After all, she had promised him she would return, and by Gods this was a promise she would keep. Their bonds are strong, of that she had no doubt. She just had to figure out how that equated to finding her way back to them, back to her family. _I have a family!_ The thought rose unbidden and left her with a semblance of something approaching joy for the first time since arriving in this foul place as she held tight to her memories of them.

-oOo-

_The air was crisp and the night sky dark, but with the light of the moon she could see the clouds hanging low. The breeze blew her hair back as she gripped onto the handrail of the balcony, relishing the respite from the usual harsh summer days. Nights like these made her appreciate the fall and winter months more, even though she knew once winter rolled around, she would yearn for the blazing summer sun._

_Looking down, the palace courtyard was beautifully lit by the lanterns perched along the pathways. Some nights, she and Chrom would meander lazily through the garden enjoying the privacy they were awarded. No one dared interrupt their outings knowing how precious they were to the couple. On some occasions it was enough for them to just stroll hand in hand, a comfortable silence lingering between them. They seldom had need for words, often opting instead for a gentle caress, a loving embrace, or a soft-spoken declaration of love. Her favorite nights were ones that saw her calming her heart as she picked leaves out of her tousled hair and smoothed down the wrinkles of her clothing, a satisfied grin gracing her face._

_The thought spread a blush along her cheeks as she felt the familiar heat pool low in her belly._ There’s a place and a time, _she told herself._ Now is a time for family.

_Turning around she walked across the balcony and crossed into the dining room. This particular room was simplistic in decoration, something she had to fight for. She refused the overabundance of gems, royal treasures, and antiques that the Royal Decorator vehemently declared were so vitally important to the room’s decor. This was the family wing of the palace, thus making this the family dining room and she refused to see it decorated like some overstuffed peacock. A table that originally sat 20 was swapped out for one seating 6 (dinner never felt quite right without Aunt Lissa and Uncle Frederick in attendance). A chandelier lined with hanging diamonds was replaced with one made of simple silver. The cabinet that once held centuries-old China dishware now held family mementos.  Ostentatious paintings of Ylisse’s past rulers were exchanged with a single family portrait that rested over the modest fireplace._

_The table sat already prepared, silverware set and dishes covered, and waiting for hungry mouths. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted over her, drawing a growl from her stomach. Her family sat seated and waiting. On one side, Lucina and Lissa spoke of the dresses they discovered on their walk through the market while Morgan and Frederick discussed training methods to increase their sword skills opposite from them. Chrom sat on one end, cooing down at baby Lucina as she lay in the rollaway bassinette, chubby fists swinging through the air and answering him with her own baby babbles._

_The scene brought a smile to her lips and warmness to her heart. She may not remember her childhood, her mother or father or anything from before a few years ago, but these memories were enough to make up for those lost._ More than enough, _she thought._

-oOo-

Pulling herself back from the memory with a gasp, she suddenly felt tired. Though the memory she had fallen into was lovely, she had seemingly lost track of herself. She had no sense of time here, whether it had been five minutes or five hours, or even five years, she couldn’t tell. _What am I doing here,_ she wondered. She recognized nothing of her surroundings, but then again what was there to recognize when darkness was all she saw? She knew she had a purpose, felt it really, but struggled to remember.

“It is the curse of this place. You are doomed to forget.” The voice startled her, booming forth from every direction. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a voice she should recognize, but for now she recalled nothing.

“Who’s there?” she answered back.

“If you have already forgotten me, then I fear for your fate,” the voice replied with a soft sigh. She wondered if the hint of sadness she heard was real.

In the distance, an orb of light appeared causing her to recoil until she could adjust to the new sensation. Steadily, the orb grew in size, spreading light throughout the dark place, proving there was nothing else here. A figure stepped through with long, flowing, green hair, tipped ears and an ethereal glow.

“Na…Naga!” she screamed out, recognition flooding back to her. It all came back to her then, why she was there and what she had to do. That she had forgotten…

“Perhaps not all is lost. You are not dead young one, simply on a plane of passing. It is only by the strength of your bonds that your spirit refuses to pass on. Though you must realize that the longer you stay here, the less likely you will ever be able to leave.”

As Naga spoke, she knew what she said was true. This place was slowly destroying her by making her forget who she was. She had a promise to keep; she couldn’t afford to lose herself!

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked. She hoped the fear and desperation in her voice wasn’t as obvious as it sounded to her.

“The bonds forged between you and those you left behind were strong enough to anchor you here, but to return to them is another challenge entirely. You have a choice: you can either move on to the life after this or you can fight and try to find your way back. But know this; if you decline to move forward and fail to go back, you will be trapped here forever.”

_Another choice,_ she thought wryly. “That is no choice! I cannot move on with so much to live for, I must go back.”

“Then you must find a way, and quickly. I wish you luck.”

As Naga turned to leave, she was gripped with a sudden sense of urgency. “Wait! I don’t even know where I am or what I’m supposed to do here. Please, you have to help me!” she pleaded.

Glancing over her shoulder, Naga spoke. “It is not my place to explain to you what lies beyond the world you know. I will say this: this is not a plane frequented by mortal souls. That you have found yourself here means that there is still hope for you.  The strength of your bonds brought you here and will deliver you home. Have faith in that. You and yours have sacrificed much to stop Grima and for that I will leave you with a parting gift.”

Once Naga finished speaking, she was flooded with a tingling feeling. It spread from her toes, up to her head and out to her arms. _Wait!_ she thought. _I have arms! And legs! Oh Gods, yes!_ Looking down she was excited to find she had been surrounded by her own ghostly glow that followed along the lengths of her reformed body. She was now able to cast out her own light into the darkness. She felt the telltale sign of tears prick at her eyes. That she could feel such a sensation made her want to cry more.

“The soul has no physical form. I have given you back yours.”

Reeling with the overwhelming emotion of having her body restored, she was barely able to stutter out her gratitude. “Thank you” her voice cracked as she was finally able to whisper out the words. Looking up, however, she saw that Naga was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What started as a one-shot, then morphed into a three-shot, however, this chapter sort of ran away from me and so I had to cut it off here before it ballooned into some 5,000 word monster. So as of now, it’s looking to be a four-shot (is that even a thing?). This entire work is running away from me actually. I guess my Avatar wasn't quite finished yet. Any who, thanks for reading! :)


End file.
